The Devils Voice Is Sweet To Hear
by plasticineking
Summary: "He could feel her through the door, almost intoxicating him like he remembers no other before her." One-shot about Jim trying to win Alex over... Jim/Alex and Alex/Gene.


The Devils Voice Is

Sweet To Hear.

"_Temptation is the devil looking through the keyhole. _

_Yielding is opening the door and inviting him in."_

_- **William Ashley Sunday.**_

_**

* * *

**_

Alex Drake was always a strong person, ever since she were a child. "There's nothing to fear but fear itself," is something she used to repeat day in day out, mostly because her Godfather told her to from a young age. See, when her parents died, even the smallest sound made her want to cry. The image of the car blowing up, with her parents inside replayed over and over, because no matter how much Gene had tried tried to cover her when younger from the explosion, the damage itself was already done. So her Godfather, on the edge of giving up on her altogether after countless bed changes and sleepless nights, told her that saying, and then told her how fear didn't exist. How fear is something similar to temptation, it's something The Devil inflicts in us, to try and win us over to his side. How fear is the next step past temptation, because if The Devil's charm didn't work, he'd strike fear into the heart of you and break you until you had no choice, but he reminded Alex that she had a choice, and that fear didn't exist, and that she'll always be safe if she believes this. So soon, even though the nightmares didn't stop, the crying did and the jumping at the littlest sounds and with reminding herself that she'll always be safe if she fears nothing she managed to do so. It was almost ironic that this mantra stopped working, when she was dangling by a thread neither alive nor dead. When she really needed it to work the most, it didn't and Alex was scared.

* * *

Alex decided from the beginning that she was going to fight, that if she stopped she failed, not just herself but mostly her daughter, her -what she thought until she met certain people of this world- everything. Yet, after all that had happened the lines began to blur and she wasn't sure if she was fighting a losing battle or standing on the battle grounds years after the battle itself was lost, because it was just so quiet. She maybe always knew in the back of her mind, that the lack of messages from her "real life" could only mean one thing, yet she clung to the straws that were desperately falling and decided to make the goal of the mystery around Sam Tyler her mission, because obviously that would send her home, knowing the truth, even though, really, she knew it wouldn't. There were days, one or two, every now and then, where she'd let the truth come out and she'd cry, so hard that even the thought of moving made her body itself cry a little. Days where she'd stay in from work, after ringing Shaz and telling her she was ill, and not move from the comfort of her settee, staring with wet eyes at the blank television screen until the were almost dry from barely blinking, scared she'd miss just the slightest glimmer.

Today was one of those days, she woke suddenly in the night after a dream, one of the happiest, of a clichéd family scene, a happy scene in a field with a picnic blanket and food. A place where she was holding Molly in her arms, and her bitter ex-husband was there, and he loved her, like he never did before. It was only when, Molly turned and run slightly off in the field waving at her, she almost instantly grew infront of Alex's eyes to a beautiful young woman, her blonde hair shorter and uttering the words, "Goodbye Mummy" did Alex feel her chest begin to contrast, and her breathing almost stop. Sobbing herself awake, she looked at the clock, it signalled that it was 4am, shutting her eyes briefly she as she let the fear wash over her, like it always did after dreams not dissimilar way to this one, opening them again at the sign of a knock at her door, she saw the time was now 09:06pm and that somehow she had drifted into her subconscious for over a day. She knew who she expected it to be and really, in her mood didn't want to argue with Gene about her tardyness or being a bad copper, so grumbled loud enough that it would be heard over the – somehow now louder than ever – static of the television, "Go away. I'll be in tomorrow." Falling back into her settee, somehow having the energy dragged out of her, by those simple six words.

"Alex. I..." his voice paused, "I just wanted to check you were okay. Stopped Hunt on the way here, ready to rampage your flat." Giving a slight giggle almost nervous, Jim rested his head on the door. As for the line about Gene, it wasn't even slightly true, at 10am, Gene was ready to go straight to Alex's when Jim, smoothly came up with an excuse that wasn't uncommon for Alex these days, that she had a stomach bug and would be in tomorrow. There was then an intense stare-off, almost child-like, between Gene and Jim and Jim would be lying if he said he was at all bothered, Gene almost grunted before returning to his office. He had just been about to set off to Alex's again at 8, after a long day of useless and pointless petty cases, concerned because she hadn't even gotten in touch with Shaz, when he walked past Jim on the phone, supposedly having a conversation with Alex, again, all carefully done by Jim, just to make sure his night was securely planned and that he would see Alex later, undisturbed.

"I can go, if you want. I did bring soup, heard that's what always helps when you've an upset stomach." There was a pause, when he heard the television inside turn down slightly, but still crackling in the background, he played the last card, "It's vegetable soup...my favourite. I hope that's okay?" He asked, hating how pathetic and naïve he sounded. Alex turned her head at the title of the soup, the same she remembered having whenever she was ill with a stomach ache, from such an early age, and something she carried on even when Molly was born. Her throat almost closed up, it was just a coincident that this man, who she had grown to know over the past months, happened to be so considerate and caring that he'd bring her his own favourite soup that happened to be her favourite soup from a childhood, right?

She rose slowly, on unsteady legs, and walked to the door, quietly almost to the point where Jim almost had to force his ears to hear her...almost. She placed one hand on the lock and the other on the door handle before resting her head on the door, directly opposite to where Jims rested. He could feel her through the door, almost intoxicating him like he remembers no other before her. He took his time, that was something he was used to, patience, the waiting because he had all the time in the world and more, but this woman, did something to him, always almost making him abandon years of practice and his whole lifestyle, and he couldn't figure out why. She wasn't special in the sense that in years to come she could be a great assets to him, or that she'll make his "life" here any better, but he was drawn to her, much like the metaphor about a moth to a flame, only he knew he could have her, but he didn't want to. If she opened the door to him now, it was the beginning steps to end this, and her, he just had to make sure in the process that he remembered not to get distracted by her smile, or caught off guard by a sweet waft of her perfume, he had to focus.

Alex took a breath and unlocked the door, suddenly feeling nervous, like everything was resting on whether she opens the door or not. She could, honestly thank him through the door, tell him she's not in the mood for company and go to bed...or at least the settee, because that would be the truth, yet something tempted her to just let him in. Like a magnet, she felt the need to open the door and, for the first time, let him into her home. Her home, it was funny because she never used to think of here as home, clenching her eyes tight, she remembered why, and thought about telling Jim to leave altogether, without a thank you. It was only when he heard her soft, "Alex", through the door did she decide that maybe he deserved at least, a thank you. Gripping the handle, and stepping back she opened the door, somehow smiling even though she thought she didn't have the energy and what surprised her more, was the fact she meant it.

"I was beginning to think you fell asleep." Jim smiled, almost looking nervous as he stood, still unsure whether to enter or not, plus she was smiling, and he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. "Uh, the soup..." he left the statement hanging, as he glanced at the tub in his hand, an almost shocked look appeared on Alex's face, as it seemed she was distracted beforehand and had forgotten all about the soup itself. Jim inwardly smiled, maybe it'll be easier than he thought, if he could just stop looking her in those beautiful eyes.

"Oh, Jim, I'm sorry, I forgot myself completely, please...come in." She stepped away from the door and he swept slowly past her, going to the kitchen and placing the container down, looking around, wondering whether to comment on how...quaint it was, but he knew she'd probably be able to tell her was lying.

"Do you want some now? I could bring it in for you, you know, let you rest." Jim turned and leant against the counter, crossing one foot over the other and folding his arms, staring at Alex in a may that made her look away bashfully.

"I uh, maybe we could just leave the soup...for now. I've wine?" She stated, quickly remembering that she hadn't an ounce of drink in her system, which seemed to bring fear washing over her. She caught his eyes, and realized that she couldn't look away, she thought there and then she was probably making a fool of herself, but she didn't know, or expect to be having the same effect on him. He coughed and nodded, barely mumbling yes. She looked away then, wondering who would actually pour the wine.

"I'll get it Alex, you go sit down." Alex smiled back at Jim, such a refreshing change to have someone care about her, so openly. She walked past him, breathing deeply at the musky and smoky scent that she breezed off him. It was different to the typical type of cigarette smoke, more bonfire-like. She shook her head and sat quickly down, feeling like she was on an interview, or dare she say, a first date.

"You concerned me, not ringing in today, I assumed it was because of the reasons you've been phoning in the past few months about. So, that's why I brought soup." She heard him say from the Kitchen then coming into the living room, his coat removed, the wine bottle under his arm, and two full glass in both hands. She smiled up at him as he placed the glasses on the table. "I hope I didn't assume wrongly?" He placed the bottle down, and sat, closer to Alex than either expected.

"No, no you were right. I've been all off kilter lately. Don't know what's wrong with me." She grabbed her glassed and knocked it back in one. Jim's eyebrows raised as he laughed slightly.

"Well, that can't really be helping." He said pointing at the now empty glass in her hand. "Have you even eaten anything at all today?"

"Truth be told Jim, I only woke up when you knocked, although it felt as though I'd been awake all day." She sighed putting the glass down, and resting, mildly unlady-like into the settee. In fact, oddly enough had taken into account her appearance. Her clothes were that of a long top and leggings but her hair, what would normally be seen as terrible bed-hair, seemed to only had to the charm. Keats almost psychically shook himself as he looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"You work too hard. So hard, Alex." He placed his practically full glass on the table, and turned his knee bumping hers. He stared for a moment, noticing her eyes shut as her head leant back. "I want to know you." That brought her eyes open, as she turned her head to look at him.

"What?" She mumbled, not realizing how much that one glass had managed to take effect already.

"I've known you psychically for half a year now and I could say I don't know a thing about you, not the personal side of things." It wasn't as though he was lying either, he didn't know. Not much, and not enough to bring up into a conversation, this would help him get her to trust him, but if he was completely truthful, it would be that he was just doing this for himself. She stared for a moment, as if weighing up everything of what she'll reveal and not reveal. He smiled and she sighed, not unhappily and decided she'd let him know what he wanted.

"What do you want to know, Mr Keats?" She asked, almost cheekily.

* * *

Not even two hours later, Jim was still wide awake, listening or at least he looked as though he was, intently to Alex's now drowsy tales of her university life. They weren't particularly interesting, but he had to admit, seeing her face light up when she spoke about certain things, amazed him. He knew he needed to find an opening, soon and close before he didn't know whether he was playing or being played. Just then, she uttered a name, so quietly, but he heard it, "Molly". He then realized she was gazing at him, her eyes glazed over, ready to cry.

"Alex?" He mumbled, shuffling closer to her, placing a comforting, at least he hoped so, hand on her forearm, rubbing slightly. "Do you want to tell me about Molly."

"You wont believe me, nobody believes me." She mumbled, child-like, and sat up, more comfortably in the settee a pout on her face and a tear sliding down her red cheeks.

"I've sat here for over an hour listening to your stories, Alex. If I didn't believe you, I would've left by now." Jim smiled, opening an arm, and inviting her to lean against his chest. The seconds seemed to drag into hours as he watched her gaze from his face to his chest, but then, she moved her head on his shoulder, one arm around his back, the other resting on his chest, and he engulfed her in his own arms. One hand smoothing down her hair, the other around her waist. "Now, tell me about her."

"S-she's twelve, my daughter. She's my daughter." Jim just nodded, resting his cheek, uncharacteristically against her hair, and breathing in her scent. "It was her birthday, when I came her, I didn't even get to s-see her blow her candles out." She let out a sob, and Jim gently shh'd her, smoothing circles into the skin he found – by moving her shirt – on her waist.

"You'll see her soon, Alex. I can promise you that." He mumbled, turned so his nose was buried deeper in her hair. What the hell was she doing to him?

"H-how do you know, Jim? How can you be sure?" There was a long, pause, as Jim's hand moved slightly up her shirt, not far from the bottom of her breast by not quite touching, and she arched into him, she moved her head slightly, so she was looking him in his eye, "Who are you, Jim?"

He shook his head, and smiled. The hand that was smoothing her hair, dropped to gather the hand on his chest, and entwined his fingers with her. Her gaze dropped to her hands, and she frowned slightly, confused by the burning feeling that spread from her hand up her arm.

"I'm here to help you, Alex. Where other have failed, I wont." He said simply, kissing her forehead in a gently way that shocked even him.

"How can I trust you? I-I don't...How...Are you like me?" She mumbled her eyes, fluttering shut, by trying so hard to stay open. He was so close, his face, his lips.

"I'm so much more." He muttered before bringing his lips closer still to hers. This wasn't supposed to happen, charm her to where he wanted her, but now really the only place he wanted her was her bed. He couldn't think his brain clouded by the pure essence of her. Then, as soon as it begun, it shattered, and she'd regret it later.

"Gene." She said, breaking apart from Jim and sitting back as far away from him as possible. Staring down at her hands.

"Well, I can't say I'm not offended." He almost snapped at her, before standing and placing his hands in his pockets. She brought her gaze up to his face, and looked away, she felt as though her eyes were on fire.

"I-I'm sorry, I just mean...Well, Gene...could...Just Gene." She looked at her hands again, her eyes watering, she assumed that that would be enough of an answer.

"Just Gene? Just Gene? What do you mean Alex, because I'm finding it hard to understand you right now?" He said simply, picking up his overcoat and putting it on.

"Just, that he's my...we're..." She looked at Jim, confused at herself and everything that had happened tonight.

"Nothing. You're nothing. He's your nothing." Jim's loud laugh brought a shiver down Alex's spine, suddenly, she was scared.

"You actually think, Alex that he even gives a damn about you? That you mean anything to him? He's here to bring you and your team down, he'll hurt you and I was going to help you. Not after this, not after you humiliated me." His voice was crisp, but the edge was definitely there. He walked over to her kneeling down in front of her.

"You see Alex, I could've taken away all the fear. I could've made it all better." He lifted her chin to look her in the eye, "You just made a big mistake Alex." He pushed her head away from him and stood, before quietly, but sinistarly adding "A very, big, mistake." then standing and walking out to the kitchen, but not before he added.

"Not even your Gene can help you now." Slamming the front door shut.

Alex hated being scared, it meant she was less a person than she thought. She hated asking people for help, hated it almost as much as she hated fear. Bringing her knees to her chest, and wrapping her arms around them, she began mumbling over and over "There's nothing to fear but fear itself." It was only when her mouth was dry throat raw and eyes dry did she realize how stupid that saying was. Grabbing her phone from the side, she dialled the ever familiar number. She waited for what seemed like years, then the gruff but homely tones drifted through the phone

"_Yes?"_

"Gene. I-I need you." Alex couldn't help the sob that escaped. There was slight pause, as if he was wondering how to respond to her voice and statement. Whether to tell her to man-up or to be comforting. Thankfully it was the latter.

"_I'll be there now, Alex, don't ya worry, okay love?" _He rung off, and suddenly she felt safe, already, because he was coming to her. She had no idea what she was going to say to him, but right now she needed him to know she needed him, in general.

"_The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn." **- Martin Luther King.**_

_**

* * *

A/N: **_**I quite enjoyed writing this, it was different. I've not got this beta'd. (I'll probably see if my dear abbie will perv, I mean read it later and tell me how terrible I am, but until that mistakes are my own, and I hope it made some sense.)**


End file.
